


Kiss Me Under The Light of a Thousand Stars

by mybrotherharry



Category: The West Wing
Genre: A real danger of mono?, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Getting Together, Humor, I Tried, Kissing, Kissing Booths, M/M, Mistletoe, Romance, Sort of? - Freeform, Tooth Rotting Fluff, boys being stupid, why is that a tag AO3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 12:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mybrotherharry/pseuds/mybrotherharry
Summary: Sam has got mistletoe in his office. Josh is avoiding the communications bullpen. Everyone except Toby is stupid.These three things are related.





	Kiss Me Under The Light of a Thousand Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Mistletoe induced shenanigans. Cliches are a cliche for a reason, folks.
> 
> Title reference: Ed Sheeran's [Thinking Out Loud](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lp-EO5I60KA)

It keeps happening all day. People come up to him for something (of course they do, this whole place would fall apart without him), and as they leave his office, they stop at the doorway, turn around and drop the entirely  _unnecessary_ piece of information on him.

CJ, because she sucks, comes by for no reason but to let him know.

Like he even cares about the mistletoe Sam's got in his office.

He does  _not._

He's got things to do. Senators to topple. Republicans to pick fight with. Battled to win.

He doesn't have time to go traipsing into Sam's office for a mistletoe kiss. And even if he did go to Sam's office, it would be for important work related reasons. 

He doesn't care about stupid holiday traditions.

He doesn't even celebrate Christmas. He is Jewish.

"Doth protest too much, Josh," Donna says, smirking at him. Nobody asked her anyway.

She smirks some more, gracefully dancing out of his office. He would throw his muffin at her head, but A) he is hungry, and B) she'd just pluck it out of the air and eat it herself.

*

He is on his way to a meeting in the Roosevelt Room when he catches Ed and Larry popping breath mints.

_What the hell._

"Sam's got mistletoe in his office," Ed (or Larry) tells him like its an explanation all of its own.

"Guys," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose,  _Still Very Much Not Caring,_ thank you very much. "This is exactly why the CDC keeps telling us about awareness campaigns to prevent Mono outbreaks."

"That's in High Schools, Josh," Larry (or Ed) says, popping another breath mint.

"A jury of our peers wouldn't know the difference, is my point," Josh points out.

"Would be worth it, though."

They swagger off together in the direction of the Communications bullpen, while Josh stands in the hallway, grappling with the inexplicable urge fire one or both of them.

*

Republicans suck.

Because there could be no other explanation for why Ainsley Hayes pops into his office at lunch time, puts on chapstick in what can only be characterized as an excessively lewd manner, stars at him for five minutes before vanishing away.

She throws him a look of _pity_ before she leaves, which he insists is rather an uncalled for.

*

Leo passes him on the way to the cafeteria.

"Josh!"

He's got his  _why-did-I-hire-morons_ look, and Josh scrambles his brain for the last Big Thing he screwed up.

"I have the Rockland memo, Leo," he goes for a preemptive scream prevention. "I am nearly done, I swear."

"Couldn't care less," Leo rolls his eyes. "I actually wanted to make sure you knew about the CDC report?"

"On Mono? Yes. But Sam's the one who's gonna make the White House a hotspot - why are you looking at me like that? Seriously, what did I do?"

"Put an end to it soon," he says in a huff, turning away.

"Sam's the one who-"

"End it, Josh!"

"What do you want me to do? Break into his office and steal it? LEO!" he hollers at the man's retreating back, making several staffers stare at him. 

Leo doesn't reply, but he's got another smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

*

He pays Donna fifty dollars to steal the mistletoe from Sam's office. She takes the money to buy him a WORLD's MOST SELF AWARE MAN mug.

He doesn't get the joke, but CJ finds it hil-fucking-arious.

He considers firing Donna but then he will have to answer his own phone, and since the Vanity Fair incident of '99, he isn't allowed to do that anymore.

*

Toby is the scariest of them all.

(Considering that one of them can command NAVY SEALs, that's really saying something.)

Toby trudges upto his office at the end of the day, crosses his arms and JUST. STARES.

It's most disconcerting.

"Can I help you?"

More staring.

"I am sorry for whatever I did. Or failed to do. Or did poorly."

Continued creepy scaring.

"Oh my God, what? What is it? This is like Ainsley all over again!"

"Have you hit your head?" Toby asks him seriously. "Have you fallen down and hit your head on something hard?"

"I resent that remark, Toby," he defends himself. "I really do."

"Oh, that's alright then," Toby rolls his eyes. He is using his  _dry as the fucking Sahara_ voice.

"What? Explain the passive aggressive posturing. Please do, it's what I have been putting up with all day."

"You are not usually this stupid," Toby observes, followed by Donna's shout of 'YES HE IS!' from somewhere outside the room.

"Close the door, Donnatella!" Josh shouts, because he is  _done,_ he is having the shittiest day.

"Enlighten me, Joshua," Toby says once the door is shut behind him, "on the number of times you make a visit to the communications bullpen each day?"

"I am a busy man. I rarely come by."

"Ginger has most of your memos, and your last seven legal pads at her desk."

"Perks of having the most scatterbrained secretary."

He hears the sound of his second favorite mug crashing against his closed door. He needs to reel it or he will end up sacrificing a limb to mollify Donna.

"The _pizza guy_ brings your order to Sam's office!"

"So you're saying I come by a lot."

"And yet, you haven't brought your fine person over there today."

"I have been busy."

"You had  _one_ meeting."

"How the fuck do you know that?" he blurts out before he can stop himself.

"Your schedule is stuck to the wall in Sam's office, you knucklehead!"

"I had things to do today, Toby, I don't see what the big deal is!" 

Toby sighs one of his  _its too bad killing morons for stupidity is illegal_ sigh. 

"He is going to cause a building wide mono outbreak while you sit here braiding your hair and look for your big boy pants."

"Sam's just in the festive mood. Holiday spirit!"

"It's AUGUST, Joshua!"

"I get that you mistakenly believe this is somehow my fault -"

"I do! I do believe that, yes -"

"But there's nothing I can do.  Order your deputy to take it down."

"And put up with his Bambi eyes and pouting sulk for weeks? No thank you! The State of the Union is in two weeks!"

Josh is about to retort when Charlie pokes his head through the door.

"I have got a message for the Deputy Chief of Staff from the President."

"What is it, Charlie?"

"He says, and I quote, 'Three budget speeches and the goddamn state of the union! I am executive ordering you to kiss him!' end quote."

"This is unbelievable."

"Why are you fighting this Josh?" Toby turns on him as Charlie retreats. "You want it as much as does. Put him out of his misery for God's sake!"

A beat of silence.

"He's really doing this for me?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"He's always been the most optimistic of us all," Toby meets his gaze, serious.

"Fine," Josh gives in gallantly. "I will come by later."

"Right now."

"Later! Don't push it."

Toby concedes, nodding. He's got a hand on the door knob when he says, "Have I ever told you about the time a kid messed with my brother's heart and by sheer coincidence, his house was TP'd the next day?"

Josh swallows around the lump in his throat. 

"Message received, loud and clear, Toby."

"I will let myself out."

*

  _Don't be a coward,_ he tells himself, hand clenched into a fist, poised to knock.

"Come in Josh," Sam's chirpy voice answers.

He's at his desk, surrounded by at least a couple of hundred crumpled balls of yellow ruled paper. Sam with writer's block was terrible for the environment.

"Leo asked me to talk to you about the CDC stats on Mono outbreaks in the American workplace."

"High schools," Sam corrects, his ears flushed red.

Josh grits himself, and says,"It's definitely got all the trademarks of a teenage girl with her first crush, yes."

"You're hardly my first," he rolls his eyes, looking away. 

"So you put it up for me."

"I hoped," Sam says because that's his deal. He is sincere. He is naive and brilliant and straight out of the pages of a Utopia, but that's Sam. What you see is what you get. And right now, he's got sincerity radiating off his every pore.

"Coulda just asked me," he steps closer, coming around his desk and leaning his hip against it. Sam swivels in his chair to the side, looking up at him, and in the muted light of his office, Josh can admit to himself that he wants this. He wants it so intensely that he can practically taste it.

"If I had, you would have run for the hills."

_Well. He's not wrong._

"Ainsley said I should have gone for a kissing booth in the bullpen, but I didn't think it was classy enough."

"And you're all class, Sam," he leans closer, because Sam's eyes are shining, he looks at him with controlled optimism even now, when Josh's given up ground and left his terror at the door, Sam's giving him a choice.

"Well, I try," he says, his voice breaking. Josh closes the distance between this, his hands on Sam's face, lips pressing insistently against Sam's requesting permission and more.

Sam enthusiastically grants it, and they are hardly coordinated about it, messy and hurried, and yet hundred percent perfect because this is Sam, with his hair standing up from where Josh's fingers messed it up, lips swollen, eyes dazed.

"Hi," Josh murmurs when they break apart. "You're never kissing anyone else ever again."

"Okay," Sam agrees, and when he smiles, it has got the smug satisfaction of a man who got what he wanted all along.

*

Less than a hundred feet away, in the Oval Office, money changes hands.

"Told you it would work," Jed says to Leo, happily pocketing the twenty dollar bill.

"Only YOU would read a CDC memo and come up with a near perfect matchmaking plot."

"How dare you! It was entirely perfect."

"Whatever you say, Mr. President."

"What's next?"

*

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved! 
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://baffledkingcomposinghallelujah.tumblr.com)


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